Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
My heart stops. “What?”
“Your offer. From Nolan Sharp?” Her blue eyes widen. “Yesterday I asked him when he was going to finally offer you a job, and he said he did! Don’t tell me it isn’t true.”
Oh shit. I turn to Chase, and he’s staring at me with a dangerous look on his face. “Well? Did he?”
I can feel my face reddening. “He did.” I swallow hard. “I was going to tell you…”
“When?” Chase demands. “When were you going to let me know? Before I spend more time agonizing over what happens next year? Or after?”
“Chase,” I say in the calmest voice I can muster. “There’s a very good reason…”
“Is there?” he demands, his face reddening, too. “I thought we were in our honesty era, Zoe. Jesus.”
Then he storms away.
“Oh shit,” Bess says. “I didn’t mean to step in it.”
But of course she didn’t. That was all me.
Chapter 44
I don’t know, Zoe,” Tremaine says to me. We’re standing on the landing outside Chase’s apartment at The Lair. “You’re welcome to come to my place and listen for the elevator. But Lisa swears she hasn’t seen him.”
Lisa is the pretty concierge who’s probably sick of my drama. “Can you just call me if you hear from him? Especially if there’s any ‘Hallelujah’ on the terrace.”
He gives my arm a squeeze. “Will do.”
I ring for the elevator again and ride down, dejected. And when I reach the street, I head back toward my place on Eighth, alone.
I’ve been looking everywhere since Chase took off. He got a head start, because it took me a minute to change out of my costume and collect my skates. First I checked his place, and then my place, and then his again. And now I’m just confused.
Bess doesn’t know where he went, either. “But don’t worry, honey. Chase isn’t a venter, he’s a brooder,” she told me when I called. “He’s had a lot of loss to process in his life, and sometimes it takes him a moment to make sense of things. But he always comes around.”
He’s right to be angry, though. I didn’t tell him about the job, because I didn’t know how to make it a fair decision. I don’t want him to sacrifice anything for me.
I don’t want him to feel obligated.
Just as I’m climbing the stairs in my building, my phone rings. I pull it out eagerly. But I don’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Zoe? This is Harp down at the bar.”
Oh no. “Is there a problem?”
He chuckles. “I’m not really sure. But Chase came in a super-tight shirt, like he’d just been out clubbing, and now some guys are buying him beers. So it’s more like I’m anticipating a long night ahead. Do with that what you will.”
We hang up, and I head over there.
Just like the first time Harp called me, though, I’m not sure what I’ll say. I was wrong, and I don’t know how to make it right.
I walk in a few minutes later and scan the room. But I don’t see Chase anywhere.
“Don’t panic,” Harp says, ducking under the bar to greet me. “You’re going to want to see this.” He beckons.
I follow him a few paces toward a booth in back, and suddenly his warning makes sense. Chase is seated on one side of the booth, and there are a lot of empty beer glasses in front of him. A startling number.
Even more startling? Three of the beer bellies are seated around him—the same men who caused us all the trouble back in January.
“Buddy, I think you can work this out,” one of them is saying. “Women don’t always understand us.”
“They use a lotta words,” another one says. “Big words. Long words.”
“Do you think she loves you?” the third one asks. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who ended up on the floor that night. “Like—really loves you? Even when you’re not wearing that shirt?”
Chase scrubs a hand across his face. “Yeah,” he says. “She does. That’s why this is so fucked up.”
“Is she the kinda chick who’ll love you even when you don’t have those abs?” one of them asks. “Gotta say, that kind of woman is a keeper.”
“Yeah,” Chase says, sinking farther into the booth. “I know.”
Harp taps me on the shoulder blade. “Think you can take it from here?”
“I’ll try. Chase? Honey?”
Four heads swivel in my direction. And then one of the beer bellies whistles. “Wow, Merritt. She’s come to claim you. That’s a good sign.”
Chase looks up at me with tired eyes. “Zoe. I panicked again. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” I insist. “I wanted to tell you about the job, but I didn’t know how. He’s using me, Chase. To keep you.”
He looks down into his beer. “I realize that. Bess is blowing up my phone.”
“Um, guys?” I say, waving a hand at the table. “Any chance I could talk to Chase? I think it’s important.”